Who is Polly Ann?
by SD80MACfan
Summary: In the middle of Michigan's thumb resides a special steam locomotive named Christine. She is a 4-6-2 J-3-a Pacific #5038 of the Grand Trunk Western. Since she was built in 1912, she has seen a lot of things in her life. These stories tell you all about it.
1. The Shutdown

_Peck, Michigan_

 _October, 1988_

She sat quietly in the shops of the Sandusky & Southern, not really sure of what to do. Then again, there wasn't much to do but just sit in the shed. It had been another stressful day but at least she had been able to go outside and stretch her wheels. So she decided to close her eyes and try to relax. But that all ended with a rather sudden and loud commotion outside.

"I don't get why you're always mad at me for everything that I do," a voice said from outside the shop doors.

"It's because you're always doing something stupid when you do. And I have to pick up the pieces once everything clears up," said another voice. "And besides, you're late on paying your rent, again. If you didn't waste your time with all these stupid excursions and spent a little more on working the railroad properly and fixing up the tracks, Christine wouldn't have ended up on the ground today."

"When I operate her is none of your business, Dave. And that track was fine. All that happened was a snapped rail brace."

"Will, that brace was already worn out and split half way down the middle so it was bound to snap just because you haven't been taking care of the line. And yes it is my business since I own these tracks. It's my right to know what you do on the property, regardless of whether or not you lease it. And you derailed that damned RS1 the other day too."

"Hey! You leave Andrew out of this. He isn't a damned engine. He's a good operating locomotive that is more than capable of handling himself on the road."

The two voices trailed off as the two men they belonged to continued to argue back and forth. Christine hated it when they got into arguments, and it was always because of the stupidest things. But David did have a point. Will hadn't been taking care of the tracks lately and she ended up going on the ground because of it. He didn't mean to let the track condition go but sometimes he had a tendency to procrastinate on some things while fully devoting his time to others.

"Are they always arguing like that?" a small 0-6-0 asked from across the shed.

"I'm afraid so, Barry" she replied. "I don't get why whenever something like this happens they always fight about it."

"Well I can certainly understand why it makes you so upset, Christine," a Canadian Pacific 4-4-0 said from the other side of the shops. "I'd probably go just as crazy if my previous owners did that. Then again, I'm probably gonna have to get used to it."

"I agree with you there Joseph," Barry replied.

After a while, things settled down a bit and Christine tried to relax again. Maybe now she could get a little more rest. But that idea went out the window as quickly as it took her to reflect on the day's events. She was being used for a quick freight run up to Sandusky, MI and was on her way back to the sheds in Peck when an outside rail came loose as the brace snapped and she went off into the gravel. Fortunately she was going slow enough that she didn't go all the way into the ditch but was still wedged into the ground.

Andrew had come quickly with some crew members and the men worked hard to get her back on the rails along with fixing the broken brace. Once the men finished, Andrew coupled up to Christine and towed her back to the shed where she was then inspected for any further damage.

The men in the shop found nothing wrong with her and said that she was still fit for work, although everyone knew that this was only half true. Her flue time was rapidly running out. She was leaking steam somewhere and had been having a bit of a problem with keeping up steam earlier in the day; but there wasn't any money for her rebuild.

Yet she didn't let her physical problems slow her down. She always believed that if you tried your hardest and made a passionate effort to get the job done, despite the conditions, you were still useful. It was something that was taught to her by her previous driver, Mr. Wix.

After about an hour, her driver, Mr. Rauli, came into the shed. "Evening, Mr. Rauli," she said, her voice sounding a bit more cheerful.

"Evening Chrissy," he said. His tone was sounding a bit rough and it sounded like something was bothering him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, picking up that there was something going on. They had a weird chemistry that both of them could tell when something was bothering the other. Almost as if they were a well weathered couple.

"Oh it's just David again. I swear, that son of a b**** is gonna be the death of me one of these days."

"Was he talking about my flue time again?"

"Yep. He probably thinks that you're just a pile of useless junk, even though he owns some steam engines himself. But he does realize that you do have a soul, so I think that he realizes that by scrapping you would technically be committing murder."

"No truer words were ever spoken Mr. Rauli."

Suddenly, Will rushed into the shed. "I cannot believe that idiot," he said approaching the two. "Now he's trying to shut me down, again. He's saying that I'm running you illegally."

"But that's not true. There's nothing wrong with me."

"That's what I tried to tell him, but he won't listen to me. He never listens to me. And now I think he's actually going to win this time and finally shut me down."

"But what are we gonna do then?" Mr. Rauli asked.

"Well, I have an idea. I was thinking that we could send her up to Uncle Richard's barn, lay some track in there and fix her up. He's not using the barn for anything and it's big enough."

"Do you really think that Uncle Richard is gonna let us keep her there?"

"I don't know, Pa. But he's family and it's the best we can do. I'll call him and ask about it and then I'm gonna call some low boys to pull her out of here. In the meantime you get her ready."

Mr. Rauli instantly went over to the few men who were working on Barry and told them what needed to be done. The men quickly collected their tools and got to work on Christine.

Over the next two days, progress on getting Christine ready for her move was going smoothly; until David and an FRA inspector walked in the door.

"What are you doing with that tin kettle?" David exclaimed.

"Don't you DARE call me that, you no good excuse for a railroad manager!" Christine barked back.

"You watch your mouth, Missy. Just because you're an engine that's 100 times my size doesn't give you the right to scold me," David replied.

"Just a damn minute!" Mr. Rauli said, coming to the defense of his engine. "She's my engine and I can give her the right to scold anyone I want. Including an incompetent wannabe railroader who doesn't care about anyone's feelings except that of his wallet."

"Well I'm still waiting for an answer: What are you doing with that 'Engine'?" David asked again.

"We're moving her to a safe place where she won't be found," Mr. Rauli said.

"And away from the likes of you that think that I should be a bunch of paper clips like 17 of my 18 siblings and all my Canadian siblings!" Christine added.

"Well I was told that this engine was operating illegally. That her flue time is up," the FRA inspector said, finally managing to stop the squabbling between the men and the engine and get straight to the point as to why he was there.

"That is an outright lie," Will said. "In fact, here's her Blue Card. As you can see her expiration date is five days from now."

The inspector looked at the card and then turned to David. "I see nothing wrong with what they're doing," he said. "In fact, this is the cleanest shop I've ever seen."

"That's beside the point," David replied. "I was told that she was operating on a leaking flue."

"I told you about that and we immediately took her out of service and worked hard to fix her back up," Will replied.

"That was over two months ago. This is coming from today. One of your shop crews told me that she had a leaking flue the day she derailed."

"Is that true?" the inspector asked.

"Yes, but we found out about it after she derailed, when we were working on re-railing her," Mr. Rauli said. "When we saw it we immediately dumped her fire and had her towed back to the shops by our diesel."

"Well, I see nothing wrong with everything that's going on," the inspector said after thinking everything over. "But you do know that she cannot be fired until she is rebuilt, right?"

"Well, do you have paperwork stating that?" Will asked.

"Give me a few minutes to write it up in my car. I will be back in a minute."

The inspector walked out of the shop with a dumbfounded David watching him go. "But... aren't you going to do something about all these violations?" he protested.

"What violations?" the inspector asked and then he turned to walk to his car. "I have known the Rauli's and Christine for a long time," he continued as he opened his car door. "I have never seen them do anything that was in violation of operating procedures. Good day."

David stood there with his mouth agape. He couldn't believe what he was seeing and hearing. Everything he had tried to do to bring down that rebellious punk who thought that he could operate a railroad on his own, had failed. He let out an angry huff, turned to Will, and said, "Meet me in your office. Now!"

Christine was visibly shaken up by the whole ordeal. Even though the inspector had sided with them, she still couldn't help but feel like this was partially her fault. Her emotions got even more tangled up when he heard David and Will arguing with each other from the office.

After about an hour, they finally walked back onto the shop floor where the inspector, and some of the shop crews were waiting along with the engines. Barry and Joseph had remained quiet the entire time. But by the looks on their faces, they could tell that something was wrong.

"JOEY!" Will screamed at the men. A young man about 25 years of age stepped forward. "You're fired! Go up to the office to pick up your paycheck, get your s*** and get out."

"But... But," Joey said in an attempt to defend himself.

"No! I'm not going to hear your excuses!" Will roared. "You know exactly what you did and why you're getting the axe! Because of you, all these people are going to be out of a job. Do you realize what you've just done?"

Joey looked around sheepishly as all the other men, including the engines, and even the inspector looked at him with scowls. Quickly and quietly, Joey headed to the office, still not sure of what had just happened.

Will held up a piece of paper and said, "We have 60 days to get everything out. Everyone who is still on the payroll will be needed to help with moving everything to the interchange by then. After the 60 days is up anyone that is still here is welcomed to come down to Pontiac to work on my father's railroad."

The men looked at each other with a slight look of relief mixed with a bit of pain. Then, one by one, the men started to get to work. The inspector also offered a hand with the work to be done after he handed Will the paperwork for Christine. They worked on getting the engines ready first. Joseph would be towed to the interchange while Barry was to be put on a flat car for the trip. All the machine shop equipment and spare parts were to be put in boxcars or on flat cars to be moved.

But Christine was the first to be readied. That night, after David had left the property, several trucks came to the shops and were backed in. First, Christine's wheel set was put on the first truck. Then her boiler was put on the second. And finally, her tender was put on the third. A fourth truck was also used to haul her tender trucks, extra equipment and parts for her. No one, not even the shop crew, knew where she was headed, but they all knew that she was not coming with them to Pontiac.

Two months later, everything was ready and sitting in the interchange yard in Sandusky. They were then hauled west to Wilmont by three engines of the Port Huron Northern, the railroad that David owned. Once there they were interchanged over to the Jackson, Pontiac & Northern, the railroad line that Mr. Rauli owned.

Andrew, who had been towed up dead, was surprised to see that his brother, Adam, was sitting at the interchange. He hadn't known what had happened to him back in 1979 when they were retired by the Grand Trunk Western and had presumed him to be scrapped. But Adam told him that he had been working on the JP&N for the past 9 years.

"So where is this engine, Christine, that I'm always hearing about?" Adam asked. He had been told a lot about Mr. Rauli's pride and joy and was looking forward to seeing her.

"I don't know," Andrew replied. "When the order to shut down the railroad came out she was the first to go. I have no idea where she is."

"Man, that's disappointing," Adam replied. "I was really hoping that I could see her."

"Well, I'm sure that we'll see her again, eventually," Andrew said. "She's too precious to Mr. Rauli for her to be cooped up somewhere for too long without running, or even scrapped for that matter."

The two engines continued their chat before being fired up and headed the train south to Pontiac along with the two GP18's that had also been owned by the S&S. In the meantime, Christine was sitting in a shed somewhere in the southern portion of Michigan's thumb region, unsure of what her fate would be.


	2. A New Beginning

_Eastern Michigan_

 _January, 1989_

He drove along the snow coated roads of Michigan's thumb region, looking for a specific house. He had driven over 500 miles and he hoped to God that he wouldn't be turned away when he got there. He had been given a few tips as to where he could find Mr. Rauli, but he had no idea as to if he would be willing to talk or not.

He looked down at the piece of the map that had the address scribbled on it and a circle around the general location where the address would be. He turned east, off the main road and realized that he didn't have much farther to go. Up ahead, behind one of the many brick farm houses that dotted the area, was a small, wood caboose lettered for the Grand Trunk Western, with a semaphore signal standing guard next to it.

"That has to be it," he said and he turned the car into the driveway. He parked the car, walked up to the house, and knocked on the door. After a minute, a young man in his mid-20's opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, I was wondering if this would happen to be the residence of Mr. William Rauli?"

"Depends on which one you're looking for," the young man replied. "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Michael Grovelan. I'm an editor for Trains Magazine. I was told that Mr. Rauli owns the Jackson, Pontiac & Northern and that he also owns a GTW steam locomotive that was-"

"We're not discussing anything involving the railroad or its equipment to the presses of anyone, no matter who they may be," the young man said and he proceeded to shut the door.

"Wait, please," Michael said. "I'm not here to talk about the railroad, I'm here to talk to the engine, Christine."

"No one is going to see her for any reason at all! Good day!" And with that, the young man closed the door firmly.

Michael stood there, not sure why they were being so tight lipped. So he did the only thing he could think of. "You know, as soon as she's scrapped," he said in a loud voice, "All that history, all those memories, are lost forever. And no one will be able to get them back."

He didn't have long to wait before an older gentleman opened the door. "What did you say about Chrissy?" he asked. The tone in his voice sounded like what Michael had said had struck a nerve and started to make Michael question if he had just done the right thing.

"Haven't you heard?" Michael asked.

"Heard what?"

"Ever since she was taken out of service and disappeared, a lot of people, railfans included, have been speculating as to what happened to her. Some people think that she was damaged much more severely than what was reported when she derailed on the Sandusky & Southern, and that now she's being scrapped. This story is gaining a lot of popularity, but at the moment it's only rumors. That's why I want to set the record straight."

The old man looked at Michael hard and long. As the two men looked at each other, sizing each other up, a blue lifted pick-up truck pulled into the driveway. A young man stepped out of the truck and proceeded to walk up to the side door. Both men's gaze followed him as he walked back. He knocked and the door opened.

"Hey, Will." he said. "I wanted to give you an update on the-"

"Get in here, Dill." The young man was quickly yanked through the door by the man that had answered the door earlier.

"Just a minute Son," the older gentleman called out. "Come over here, and bring Dillon over here too," he said and then turned towards Michael. "You want to know what's going on, to set the record straight? You got it. Hop in your car and follow us." He said.

"But... Pa," Will protested.

"No buts. If he wants the truth to stop all these rumors, we'll give it to him."

After a few minutes, the group was ready and they headed north. After about ten minutes, they arrived at another farm, with a rather large, yet modern looking barn in the back. The men got out and Mr. Rauli opened the barn door.

As the men walked in, Michael was taken aback at what he saw. Inside the barn, along both walls, was a rather large amount of machine tools and metalworking tools of various sizes. Hanging from the roof of the barn was a rather large hoist crane. And in the very center of the shop, dismantled in several places with a few men working on her, was Christine.

She smiled warmly as the men walked into the shop. "Afternoon Mr. Rauli," she said as they approached her. "Who's this?"

"Christine, this is Michael Grovelan from Trains Magazine. Michael, this is Christine."

"Nice to meet you," Michael said.

"Likewise," Christine replied. "Now what brings you here?"

"Well I don't think you know this but some people think that your derailment a few months ago was a lot worse than what the railroad said. And most of these same people now think you're being scrapped. I want to set the record straight."

Christine chuckled to herself. "Well it actually doesn't surprise me that people are thinking that of me. I mean, I was taken off the property rather quickly. But nope, here I am; alive and well. Well, mostly well." All the men chuckled. "So is that all you came here for?"

"Actually there was one other thing," Michael said. "Aside from just getting confirmation about what happened to you, I wanted to see if I could write down your story. What life was like for you back when you first worked on the railroad."

"Now just a minute," Mr. Rauli said intervening. "You said you were here to see that she wasn't scrapped. You didn't say anything about-"

"It's alright Mr. Rauli," Christine said. "I don't have a problem with it. In fact, I feel honored that someone wants to write down my story."

"Thank you Christine," Michael replied. "I appreciate this opportunity." He turned to Mr. Rauli. "Mr. Rauli?"

He wore a slight frown but relented. "Well... if it's all right with Christine, then it's all right with me."

Michael smiled. "Thank you Mr. Rauli." He turned back to Christine. "Let me go get my things and then we can begin."

After a few minutes, he returned with a small, portable table. He hooked up a small microphone recorder and got out a pad of paper to write down other notes. Once he had everything ready, he started the recorder.

"So, Christine. Where would you like to start?" he asked.

"Well, I guess I should start from the beginning. I was built in October of 1912 by the Baldwin Locomotive Works. Back then, I was to work for the Grand Trunk Railway, the predecessor of the GTW, as number 108."

* * *

 _October, 1912_

It was dark, cold and wet. These were the first things the engine sensed as she woke up. She started to open her eyes as she began to make out some of the sounds around her. She could hear someone talking but she couldn't make out what they were saying yet. As she awoke more, her senses became more alert to her surroundings.

Just then a bright flash of light accompanied with a deafening crash jolted her fully awake. "Ahhhh!" she screamed. "What was that?"

This startled the two engines that were hauling her more than what caused the flash and bang.

"Dang, lady. You really scared the cinders right out of my firebox," the first one said.

"Yeah, that scared us worse than the lightning," the second engine added. "At least you're awake now though. Means I've got another female I can talk to. Guys can be so boring sometimes."

"Hey now," the first engine protested.

The new engine ignored the comments. "And what was that lightning you were talking about?"

"Oh that?" the second engine said. "That was the flash and loud boom you heard. And I gotta say, that really struck close to the tracks that time. I don't think I've ever seen lightning strike that close to the tracks before."

Both engines had thick Brooklyn accents but were relatively easy to understand. The new engine looked around as she started to make sense of everything after her initial scare. "Where am I?" she asked.

"Well, right now you're on the Lehigh Valley Railroad being shipped to Buffalo," the second engine said. "You're one of the newest products from the Baldwin Locomotive Works. You're being shipped to the Grand Trunk Railway where you'll be working."

"Okay," the engine said, not really sure of what to make of it. "Who are you?"

"Oh, where are our manners. My name is Beth," the second engine replied.

"And I'm Bradley," the first engine replied. "We're N-1 Mikados that work for the LV."

"Do you know who I am?" the engine asked.

"Well, I know that you're a Pacific type, and your number is 108," Beth replied. "But beyond that I'm afraid I don't know. But I'm sure your new driver will know when you get to your home rails."

The new engine pondered these things and asked a few more questions as they continued through the hills of eastern New York. For such a young engine she was very engaging and inquisitive. Then again, almost all young engines were. As they continued west, the rain gradually died down but the weather remained rather overcast. After a few hours of traveling, they arrived in Buffalo. They pulled into a yard and disconnected from their train. Then Beth and Bradley pulled the engine into a second yard.

Upon arriving, they met another engine, a 2-8-0 lettered for the Grand Trunk with the number 779 on his tender, who greeted them warmly. "Glad to see you guys made it safely," the engine said. He had a slight hint of a Canadian accent that still could have very easily been mistaken for American. "Is that our new engine?" he asked.

"Yep, fresh from Eddystone," Bradley replied.

"Good. Welcome to Buffalo, Ma'am. My name's Riley. I'll be taking you across the river to Canada where you'll meet your crew."

"Thank you," the engine replied. "And thank you as well, Bradley and Beth. I really appreciated the talk we had."

"Our pleasure," Bradley replied. "Enjoy your time on the GT."

After the two engines left, Riley hooked up to the engine and pulled her across a huge bridge. The engine looked out across the big river. Down below, she saw a huge ship sailing under them. Riley gave a long, loud blast on his whistle followed by two short but slow blasts. This was replied by the ship with the same pattern. "Hello Riley!" the ship called out.

"Hello William," Riley called back. "That's William P. Stout, one of the largest vessels sailing the Great Lakes today. He carries iron ore from Minnesota and Northern Michigan to the eastern ports as well as other bulk loads." The new engine was fascinated by this.

After they arrived in the yard they found some men waiting for them by the fueling racks. "Is that my new engine?" one of the men asked. He was rather tall and well built. He had a thick chinstrap beard but no mustache.

"Yes it is," Riley replied. "The newest Baldwin Pacific on the GT."

"It's a pleasure to meet you young lady," The man said. "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name," the engine replied. "All I know is that I'm a Pacific, number 108."

"Well I happen to have the perfect name for you. How does Christine sound?"

"I'd love that name," the engine replied.

"Good. Christine it shall be. And I'm sure your siblings will approve as well, considering their names also begin with C. I'm Fredrick Guilford, your new driver. But I'd prefer if you called me Mr. Guilford, if that's all right."

"That's fine with me, Mr. Guilford," Christine replied.

"Good. And this is your fireman, Mr. Thomas."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. So what will I be doing here on the railroad?"

"Well you'll be hauling trains, of course," Mr. Guilford replied. "However, you won't be hauling just any train, you'll be hauling passenger trains. But, when you haul passenger trains, the lives of many people are put in your care. You must remember to be careful as you don't want to bother the passengers. You want to give them a smooth ride."

"Alright," Christine replied. "When will I be going to work?

Mr. Guilford chuckled. "In due time. First, we need to take you over to get coal and water so you can operate."

Riley pushed Christine under the coal rack and she had her tender filled with coal. Then she was pushed under the water tower to have her tender and boiler filled with water. Once that was done, Mr. Thomas lit her fire and she began to fill up with steam.

"Well I have to go haul another train east to Portland, Maine," Riley said after he finished moving her to the maintenance track. "It was nice to meet you and I hope to see you again."

"Same here Riley. And thanks."

"No problem. Enjoy your trip."

After Christine's crew finished oiling and greasing her rods and bearings and she had a full head of steam, they took her over to the station to collect her train. The train was long, about 9 cars. People were bustling around trying to get onto her train and others that were on adjacent tracks. On the track across the platform sat another engine. This one looked exactly like Christine, except that it had the number 100 on its tender.

"Hi there," the engine said. The engine was a female had a more Canadian accent than Riley but her voice was slightly rougher than Christine's. "I take it you're one of my new sisters. I'm Connie, your big sister."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Christine."

"Ah, another C name, eh? That's nice. So how do you like it on the railroad so far?"

"Well, this is my first train but I guess we'll see. I will admit though, I'm a little nervous. I mean, I've never done this before and I don't want the passengers to think I'm no good."

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do great. All you have to do is just remember to be gentle. Don't stop suddenly; don't start suddenly. And always be prepared to slow down when necessary. Just remember that and you'll do fine."

"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate that."

Just then, a conductor blew his whistle. "That's me," Connie said. "Good luck on your first day. Hopefully I'll see you again."

"Thank you, and same here," Christine replied. And with that, Connie was off in a cloud of steam. After she left, Mr. Guilford walked up to check on his engine.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

"I think so. Just a little nervous."

"Well don't worry. I'll be right here helping you all the way."

He headed back to the cab and climbed in just as the conductor blew his whistle. He immediately got to work on getting Christine ready to leave. He released the breaks, moved the Johnson bar into place, and pulled back on the throttle. Gradually, remembering to start gently, Christine pulled the heavy train out of the station.

She was actually surprised at how easy it was, even though she had never pulled a train before on her own. "So where are we going?" she asked as they continued east.

"We're heading to Sarnia," Mr. Guilford said. "It's one of the western points on the GT in Canada. When we get there we'll rest for the night and then head back west to Toronto in the morning."

Christine didn't know where these places were but she was sure that she would learn eventually. As they continued east, Mr. Guilford taught Christine how she should stop and start at a station, slowing down gradually prior to getting to the station. She didn't want to stop too soon, but she also didn't want to stop too late. Christine could tell that Mr. Guilford knew what he was talking about and was soon getting the hang of things.

At the end of the day, they arrived in Sarnia. The city wasn't extremely big, but it was still a big city none the less. She pulled up to the station and had her cars removed before she went to the roundhouse. There were some other engines there, including two other engines who looked like her.

"Well, well, well," said one of her siblings as Christine pulled onto the turntable. "Look at what we have here, eh, Cate? A new sister."

"I see her, Cal. But you don't have to be rude about it."

"I'm not being rude, I'm trying to welcome her."

"Well you could be a little quieter instead of making a scene, eh?"

"True. Sorry about that. I have a tendency to have a big mouth," Cal said, receiving an eye rolling from Cate. "So who are you?"

"I'm Christine," she replied.

"Christine, a beautiful name," Cate replied. "I'm Caterina, your big sister. But you can call me Cate. And you've already been introduced to your loud-mouthed brother here."

"Hey!" Cal said. "I said I was sorry." His voice had risen up again in volume.

"There you go again," said another engine from towards the end of the shed. "Don't you know when to be quiet? She's a brand new engine. You're likely to scare her because of that big mouth of yours."

"And while you're at it," came another voice from behind them, "Why don't you all just go turn yourselves in to the scrappers and give up this charade. After all, you all know we're better than you. You can't even go through the tunnel!" This was followed by some maniacal laughter.

"Who was that?" Christine asked.

"That, my little sister, was Ethan," Cate replied. "One of the electrics that works the tunnel between here and Port Huron, the city across the river."

"Why is he so rude?"

"Well, steam engines can't go into the tunnel by themselves because if they stall, they might choke out the crew. So the electric engines were brought in to work the tunnel since they don't emit smoke."

"He also thinks that steam engines are useless and that one day his kind will rule the rails," Cal added.

"Well how do we know that we'll stall?" Christine asked.

"Well, the grade is 2% in the tunnel. Some engines have difficulty on grades that steep," Cal replied.

"Has anyone ever stalled in that tunnel before?"

"Not in the years that I worked on it," came a reply from an 0-10-0 at the end of the roundhouse. "I'm Stanley. I worked that tunnel ever since it was built. And I can tell you for a fact that no one ever stalled in that tunnel. Sure, there have been a few times that we had a scare or two, but no one ever stalled."

"Then why can't I go through the tunnel myself? If I get a running start down the grade into the tunnel then I should be able to make it up and out the other side," Christine said.

All the engines stopped and stared at her. They had never heard an engine talk like her before. "That's easier said than done, sister," came a reply from Cate. "We've never tried it because that's the job of the tunnel engines. Also, we're not allowed in the tunnel."

"But you can't just let those boxes talk to you like that. I was just built. Doesn't that prove that we're still needed?"

"Yes, but you're talking about going against management here."

"Then why don't they do something about them treating you like this?"

"Once again, that's easier said than done," Cate replied. Some of the other engines were becoming impressed at an engine this brand new being so head strong.

"But there has to be something we can do. Anything."

"I'm sorry, sister, but there's really nothing we can do about this."

Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her own siblings were backing down all because of a talking box who boasted about being better than they were. As she sat in the sheds, she noticed that the electrics could only go on the areas where there were wires over the track. The wheels in her smokebox began to turn as she thought of a plan. She would prove to her siblings once and for all that they wouldn't be talked down to by anyone.

* * *

 _Eastern Michigan January, 1989_

"So what did you do?" Michael asked.

"Well, I made a plan of taking care of those boasting lunch boxes once and for all."

"And what was that?"

"Well-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Mr. Rauli said, "But it's getting late and I need to close up the shop."

"Alright, thank you," Michael said as he turned the recorder off. "I completely lost track of time. Would it be alright if I stopped by tomorrow and continue my chat with Christine? I'll be in town all weekend."

Mr. Rauli thought about it for a minute. "Well, I guess that's alright, as long as you help with her rebuild. In fact, I have an idea. I've been listening to you two chatting for a while now and I've been thinking. Being Chrissy's driver, I know a lot of her stories, but I don't know all of them. How about for one weekend every three weeks, you come back here and can get more of her story. That way we all get to hear more about her story; as long as you help with her rebuild, of course."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Christine replied.

"Well, I can imagine that hearing your story will take longer than one weekend. Alright, let's do it," Michael replied.

"Good," Mr. Rauli said. "Meet us at my house at 6:00 tomorrow morning and we'll get to work."

"Sounds like a plan. And thank you again for all this. I really appreciate the opportunity."

"The pleasure is all mine."


	3. New Territory

_Eastern Michigan  
January, 1988_

Early the next morning, Michael drove back to the Rauli's house. He was really looking forward to getting the chance to work on Christine as well as getting to hear more of her story. Upon arriving, he was surprised to see several more cars in the driveway than the day before. He headed up to the front door and knocked, where he was greeted warmly by Mr. Rauli.

"Michael! Good morning," Mr. Rauli said as he opened the door. "We were just about to have breakfast with the crew. Come on in and join us."

Michael followed Mr. Rauli into the kitchen where several other men were waiting. The aroma of cooking eggs, pancakes, bacon and sausage filled the air. Mr. Rauli walked over to a gentleman working at the stove.

"John, I'd like you to meet Michael, the newest member of our team."

"Nice to meet you," John said turning around to shake his hand, taking an oven mitt off in the process. "Hope you brought your appetite, since we've got a lot of food here. Most of it is all home grown."

"Well it smells delicious," Michael said.

"Thank you. Grab a plate and let me know what you'd like on your omelet. All the ingredients are over here on the counter," John said pointing to a row of bowls heaped with chopped vegetables, cheeses and meats.

Michael picked some peppers, onions and chopped steak with cheese and sat down at the table. While he waited for his omelet to finish he got himself a bowl of sausage biscuits and gravy, which tasted better than any other he had had before. Once he finished, John brought a sizzling omelet over to him. He dug in and put a bite in his mouth. He was literally blown away with the flavor.

"How did you make this so good, John?" he asked, grabbing another bite. "This is the best omelet I've ever had!"

John chuckled. "I take it you've never had a farm grown breakfast before, have you?"

"Not really. At least, not in a long time anyway."

"Well, it's just some home grown, free-range eggs, farm fresh milk, the ingredients you picked, and a little of my secret seasoning," John said with a smile.

"Well whatever you did, keep doing it. This food is amazing!"

Just then, the back door opened and both Will and Dillon walked in, both with shotguns slung safely over their shoulders.

"You guys are late for breakfast," John remarked.

"Sorry, Poppy," Will replied. "We were busy with practice."

"Well put those away and come down to grab something to eat for breakfast," Mr. Rauli said.

"Right, Pa."

Throughout the rest of breakfast, Michael was introduced to the rest of the men that were present. There were two men who had been working on the railroads for some time, one of which had worked in the GTW's steam shops in Battle Creek, a few machine shop workers, and a few men who worked for Mr. Rauli himself on the Jackson, Pontiac & Northern, most of whom had work for Will on the Sandusky & Southern.

After Michael finished his omelet, he grabbed himself a few pancakes and some fruit. By the time he was done, he was truly stuffed. He was debating whether or not he would be able to do the work that needed to be done.

"I take it you're full then," Mr. Rauli said with a grin as he observed Michael lean back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

"Yeah. I didn't realize that the better the food tasted the more filling it would be," Michael replied.

"Well don't let that full stomach bother you. Once you get to work you'll be glad you ate that much."

Michael wasn't sure how that was going to be possible but he didn't question it. After everyone finished, they all piled into their respective cars and drove up to the shop where Christine was. Mr. Rauli instructed them as to what needed to be done that day... finish testing the boiler for more leaks, replace some worn out stay bolts in the firebox, and replace the air compressor hoses.

The work was hot and tiring, but like Mr. Rauli had said, Michael was glad he had such a large breakfast. He had more energy than he had had in a while and was quite capable of doing some of the tasks that needed to be done with ease. By the time one o'clock rolled around, he was only just beginning to feel his stomach run low. After inspecting the work that had been done up to that point, Mr. Rauli said that everyone could take a break and head up to the barn for lunch. There were several different sandwiches, some salads, and some fruit laid out on a table inside.

After lunch was finished, it was agreed that Michael could continue interviewing Christine while the rest of the men continued their work. Once he had set everything up, he listened back to the end of the tape to remember where they had left off.

"So, we were about to discuss what you were going to do about the electric engines that were being rude to you," he finally said.

"Ah, yes," Christine chuckled. "That was also the first time I ran over the Grand Trunk Western."

* * *

 _Sarnia, Ontario  
November, 1912_

Christine had been working on the Grand Trunk for a few weeks now and had made a few friends outside of her siblings. However, there was one group of engines that she dreaded seeing: The St. Clair Tunnel electrics.

Every time she came into Sarnia, the electrics would always taunt her, her siblings, and any steam engine about how much better they were than them. And they always used the steamers' perceived inability to use the tunnel as their excuse. Once, she'd nearly blown up on one of them, and probably would have if it hadn't been for Mr. Guilford intervening and calming her down.

"I know you don't like them, and it's clear they don't like you," he said to her one evening. "But you can't just go up to them and bite their proverbial head off."

"But I just can't stand them picking on us like that. What did we do to them that makes them so mean towards us?"

"You didn't do anything. It's called progress. And progress has a way of changing people for the worse."

"But that still doesn't give them the right to bully us like that."

"No, it doesn't." Then a thought popped in Mr. Guilford's head. For a moment he considered his idea as he paced thoughtfully back and forth in front of her. Finally, he smiled. "Christine, I think I know how we can get back at them."

"How?"

Mr. Guilford leaned over and whispered into Christine's ear and told her the plan. "I'll tell Mr. Thomas about it as well as the manager to see if it would work."

"Mr. Guilford, you are a genius!"

"I try," he replied with a sly grin.

A little over a week later, Mr. Guliford's plan was in motion. It had been agreed that Christine was to work on the Western District, or what was commonly referred to as the Grand Trunk Western, for the next couple of weeks. Mr. Guilford had somehow convinced management that Christine was dying to see Chicago and what the railroad was like in the states. Surprisingly enough, management agreed.

However, in order to get over to the US portion of the railroad, they had to go through the tunnel, being pulled by one of the electrics. The day of the move, Christine pulled into the station in Sarnia with the regular train from Toronto to Chicago. After checking Christine over and giving her some quick oiling and greasing, Mr. Guilford signaled that they were ready to be taken across to Port Huron.

As was expected, one of the electrics came to pull her across. _How fitting,_ Christine thought as it turned out that the engine pulling them across was none other than Ethan, the first electric she had met on her first day on the railroad. As usual, he made his snide remarks about steam engines being useless, doubled by the fact that he was pulling her. But had he known what was going on inside Christine's cab he might have thought to keep his mouth shut.

Both Mr. Thomas and Mr. Guilford had put on some bandannas that had been soaking in a pail of water and pulled them over their noses. After the conductor gave the all clear, Ethan pulled them out of the station and into the tunnel. As soon as they were into the tunnel, Mr. Guilford made his move.

Ever so gently, he pulled Christine's throttle out more and more. Ethan, who had been used to pulling trains down the hill, was starting to find it harder to control the train on the downward grade. At first he didn't think much of it, throwing the added, and in his mind unnecessary, weight to the train as being a result of the steam locomotive. That was, until he got to the bottom of the tunnel. He was now moving much faster than he normally did, and he was still picking up speed. It was only when he started on the uphill portion of the tunnel, while his speed continued to rise, that he realized what was happening. Christine was pushing him!

He also realized that this steam engine was not only pushing him but she was also pulling the 10 or so passenger cars that were filled with people. Needless to say, by the time they reached the west end of the tunnel, they popped out faster than Ethan had ever gone before.

The station master at the depot in Port Huron was also impressed as to how fast they went through. He commented that they had shaved a full minute and a half off the five mile run. Ethan was dumbfounded that something like this had happened, let alone happened to him. He knew that as soon as word got out about this he would never stop getting teased about it. He quickly disconnected from the train and ran to the nearest electric siding where he sat silently for a long time, contemplating life.

Mr. Guilford, Mr. Thomas and Christine quietly celebrated their small victory as they departed town, bound for Chicago. Christine was amazed at what the western line was like. It was about the same but had a different atmosphere than in Canada.

When she arrived in Durand, she couldn't believe how busy it was. There were six tracks that crossed at two diamonds. Each one had a train on them, and more were waiting to move in behind the ones that were there. She tried to be as friendly as possible, but with all the commotion of people and trains moving in every which way, it was hard to say more than a simple "Hello."

After they got their passengers loaded, they finally headed off to Chicago. As they passed other towns and cities, Mr. Guilford explained what they all were and what their importance was. Towards late-afternoon, they crossed the state border between Michigan and Indiana and found themselves in South Bend. Christine followed the GTW mainline as it pulled up to and paralleled another big mainline.

The mainline was massive, with at least four tracks, as well as the three tracks that were there for the GTW as well. Trains ran up and down the parallel mainline constantly. It seemed like there was a train every few minutes, both freight and passenger. All the locomotives had "LS&MS" stenciled on their tenders and all of them seemed to be extremely busy. So busy that they didn't even bother to say "Hello," even to each other.

When they stopped at the station, Mr. Guilford came up to talk to Christine once more. "We're getting close to Chicago now," he said as he checked her grease levels and oiled her rods. "After we leave the station, you have to be very careful and quick. You see all those tracks next to us for the Lake Shore Railway?"

"Yes," Christine said. She could barely take her eyes off of them and how busy they were.

"Well, we have to cross all four of them in order to get to Chicago. There are some signals up ahead. I've already taught you about signals before, but these are a bit different. There are so many here that it's easy to get mixed up and go at the wrong time. I need you to watch the signal that is directly above our track and our track only as we switch across all four tracks. Don't take your eyes off of it. As soon as it turns green, I need you to move as quickly as possible so we don't block the mainline."

"Alright. Pay attention to the signal above our tracks. Go quickly when it turns green." Christine repeated.

"Good," Mr. Guilford said as he finished oiling her.

The conductor whistled them off and they got underway. As they approached the signals, Christine looked down at the tracks and then gradually looked up, her eyes following the track she was on, until her gaze fell on the signal above their track. It displayed red so she came to a stop. As she patiently waited, she continued to watch the signal and didn't take her eyes off of it. After a few short minutes and a couple passing trains, the signal turned green. Christine whistled off and quickly picked up speed, switching over the four tracks as fast and as safely as she could, and found herself on the GTW mainline once again after she'd crossed.

"Good job Christine," Mr. Guilford said after they pulled out of town.

Christine smiled. She was happy that she had done a good job. The next town they came to was Valparaiso. There was another major railroad there; two in fact. When she stopped at the station, she saw two other engines on the other lines. One was a Pacific like her but had "Pennsylvania Lines" on its tender, a belpaire firebox and was a lot bigger than her. The other, a 4-6-0 Ten-Wheeler, had Nickel Plate Road on its tender. The Pennsylvania engine greeted her warmly.

"Hi there," he said. "You don't look like the usual engines we see on the GTW. What's your name?"

"Christine," she replied. "I normally operate in Canada but management is letting me operate here for the time being."

"Well it's always nice to see a new face around here," said the Nickel Plate engine.

"Thanks," Christine said. "I will say that you guys are much more friendly than the engines in South Bend."

"Ahh," the Pennsy engine said slightly annoyed. "They're always rude. Must be because they're owned by that horrid New York Central & Hudson River Railroad started by Mr. Vanderbutt."

Christine was now confused. Why was this engine giving a bad name to another railroad? "Why's that?" she asked.

"It's because of something that happened back in the 1880s," the Nickel Plate engine said. "Back then-"

"Please do not start spouting out that story in front of me," the Pennsy engine said, thoroughly annoyed. "I can't stand to listen to it one more time. 'Cuz if I do, I'm likely to rip the funnel off the next Central engine I see."

"Alright, sorry," the Nickel Plate engine said, letting the matter drop. The conductor of the Pennsy engine blew his whistle and the engine pulled out of the station with a loud huff.

"Don't mind him," the Nickel Plate engine said. "Every Pennsy engine doesn't like the Central engines; and he's no exception. We Nickel Plate engines don't like them that much either but we try our best to at least be hospitable with them. You're headed to Chicago, right Christine?"

"Yes I am," she replied.

"Well, I'll be at the roundhouse later tonight. I'll explain everything then. By the way, my name is Holton."

"Well, thank you Holton. I look forward to hearing this. It's really peaked my curiosity."

"Yeah, it's an interesting story. Anyways, I'll see you in Chicago."

"Same here. See you later."

Both conductors blew their whistles and Holton pulled out of the station and cleared the diamond before Christine pulled out herself. She thought about what could have happened to make two railroads so mad at each other. She certainly couldn't think of any. But right now she had to focus on pulling her train. She would find out later that night anyways. So she let her curiosity of the situation fly out of her funnel as she picked up speed on her way into Chicago.


	4. Rivalry and Relationship

Chicago, Illinois November, 1912

Christine pulled into the Chicago area later that evening. The city itself was huge. Everywhere she went she saw trains moving in every which way. She was a bit nervous that, with all the different rail lines, she would lose her way and head onto the wrong track. However, she remembered what Mr. Guilford had told her and worked on paying attention to only the signals above her track.

Before long, she arrived in the station. She didn't see any engines from the railroads that she had seen or talked to on her way into Chicago, but there were some others. There were engines from the Santa Fe, Wabash, Chicago & Eastern Illinois, Chesapeake & Ohio, and others.

The station was a beehive of activity as Christine pulled into the station. Everywhere she looked were people moving around to get to their trains, porters carrying carts full of baggage to and from the trains, and train crews talking to each other about the itinerary for their next journey.

After they came to a stop, Mr. Guilford walked up to his engine. He could tell she was exhausted from her long journey, but she was still wide awake with all the activity going on around her. "Good job today," he said as he oiled her rods once more. "I know it was a long trip but you still did excellent today. When we're done here we'll give you a good wash-down and you'll feel great again."

"Thanks Mr. Guilford," she said. She was still trying to figure out where Holton was. 'He said he would be in Chicago this evening,' Christine thought to herself. "Mr. Guilford, where are all the other railroads?"

"Hmm?" he asked, looking up from his oiling. "Oh, that. Well, Chicago is an extremely big city. Over half of all the major railroads in the United States come into Chicago. Because of that, there are several different stations that serve different railroads. Some railroads even have their own special station just for them."

"Then how will I see Holton again?"

"Well, you'll see him at the roundhouse tonight. Just because his railroad doesn't go to this station doesn't mean that you won't see him again."

Christine felt a bit relieved to hear this news, but was still a bit on edge. After they were finished with unloading their passengers, a small switch engine came and took away their coaches and Christine headed over to the wash rack. After her crew gave her a good wash down, she headed over to the roundhouse. It was crowded, but fortunately, there were two spots left at the end of the roundhouse. She pulled into one of them and decided to save the next one for Holton when he arrived.

While she waited, another engine spoke up in a discussion. "Man, I'll tell you what, those Lake Shore engines are getting haughtier and haughtier every day. Would you believe me if I told you that one of them said that they were the best railroad in the country and that they're gonna put everyone else out of business?"

"That's ridiculous," another engine replied. "And besides, they can't because they would create a monopoly. And that's against the law."

"Well that's what they said. Why do you think they own the Nickel Plate? It's a parallel road to them and it's competition for them. If they control it, then they can reroute all the freight over to their lines and just wait until the line goes bankrupt and then rip up the railroad."

"But that can't happen. The government wouldn't allow that."

"Well, I'm afraid he's right," Holton said as he pulled onto the turntable. "The people over at the New York Central own the Lake Shore, and us. Ever since they have, the amount of business we've had has dwindled down to the point that we're just barely making it by."

"But why is this happening?" Christine asked.

Holton looked at her for a second and then remembered that she was still young and was new to the states. "That's right. I was going to tell you about what's been going on between the railroads. Well, I guess this is the best time to do that. After all, it will explain what is going on."

 _Back in the 1860s and 70s, a man by the name of Cornelius Vanderbilt made some rather shrewd business moves. In 1866, he ordered that Albany Bridge, at that time the only rail bridge into New York City, be shut down. This meant that all the railroads going into New York over that bridge were now losing money. In a panic, the companies started to sell off ownership of the company, known as stock, and the price of buying stock in those companies dropped to extremely low prices._

 _Vanderbilt then made his move. He proceeded to buy up all the stock that had been sold off by the railroads and, in one swift motion, He created the largest railroad company in America. He controlled almost all the railroads that served New York. The only one he didn't control was the Erie. At that time, the Erie was the only railroad that connected New York with Chicago._

 _Now, this was before the Anti-Trust Laws were put in place to prevent monopolies, so there was basically no one, outside of individual entrepreneurs, to stop Vanderbilt from taking control of the Erie as well. Because the men at the Erie knew that Vanderbilt wanted ownership of the Erie, they decided to release watered stock, or stock that had less value than advertised, of which Vanderbilt bought over $7 million of. After the plot was discovered and the men at the Erie were threatened with litigation, they eventually gave Vanderbilt back his money, and in turn, Vanderbilt agreed to leave the Erie alone._

 _In 1870, a new railroad, the West Shore, started construction on the opposite side of the Hudson River from the NYC. Vanderbilt believed that this was the work of the Pennsylvania Railroad, the other rival railroad of the NYC. However, Vanderbilt worked to improve business on the line, and within a few years, the West Shore went bankrupt._

 _In response to the bankruptcy, the West Shore dropped its rates much lower than that of the NYC and hoped that this would cause the NYC to fall. Vanderbilt responded to this by reviving the construction of the West Pennsylvania Railroad, which had a much shorter line between the east coast and the Great Lakes than any of the other railroads._

 _It eventually took J. P. Morgan to stop the war between the two railroads. The terms of the "Cease Fire" were that the West Shore be sold to the NYC and the West Pennsylvania be sold to the PRR. Because of this, both railroads felt that they were gypped by the other because they lost lines in territory that they wanted and simply gained parallel lines._

"And because of that," Holton continued, "Both the PRR and the NYC have been at each others' throats ever since. That's why you'll never see any engine from the NYC and PRR ever get along, or the NYC and Erie for that matter, although the Erie and NYC are a bit more gentle about their rivalries."

"So it was all because of the greed of a few men?" Christine asked.

"Yep, it's a sad thing what money does to humans. Some devote their whole life to it and never seem to have enough. My driver is always telling me that money is one of the root causes of all evil in the world," Holton said.

"Maybe that's why those electric engines are always rude to us, because of money," Christine thought out loud.

"Well, I don't see how money can affect us engines, steam or electric, since we can't use it, but it might have a hand in their attitude and what their builders have told them," Holton replied.

Christine pondered the words that Holton said. The rest of the evening switched to different topics, most of which seemed boring to Christine and she eventually fell asleep.

Eastern Michigan January, 1989

"You know, I've often wondered why the Central and Pennsy always seemed to hate each other," Michael said.

"Well that's what I was told. And nothing else seems to be a causing factor in it," Christine replied.

"You're right. Nothing else would give them a reason. So did you only go to Chicago while you were on the GTW? Or did you go anywhere else?" Michael asked, changing the subject.

"Actually, I ended up going to Detroit as well as making a rather uneventful trip to Grand Rapids," Christine replied.

"Well, what was it like going to Detroit for the first time?"

"It was… interesting, to say the very least."

November, 1912

The next day, Christine made a return trip out of Chicago. However, instead of going back to Port Huron when she departed the busy depot of Durand, they headed south instead of east.

"Where are we going now?" Christine asked.

"We're headed to Detroit," Mr. Guilford replied. "It's another one of the big cities that the Grand Trunk serves. You'll probably be heading out of there a lot in the future."

"Why do you say that?"

"Back in April, the largest ship in the world, the Titanic, sank killing a lot of people. Among them was the President of Grand Trunk. He was a good man and knew how to manage money. Ever since he died, the current management has been trying to fill his place. The problem is I've been seeing them making several decisions that are going to cost the company money. If things keep going the way they are, the company could go bankrupt. And if that happens, the GTW could be split from GT."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Have you tried talking to management about their decisions?"

Mr. Guilford chuckled. Obviously, Christine didn't understand how railroad management worked and that they probably wouldn't listen to one engineer that was among the thousands of employees that worked on the railroad. Still, he had to admit that he was impressed with her common sense, no nonsense attitude. "No, but I might try it." _Not that it would make a difference._

After they pulled into Detroit, Christine was uncoupled from her coaches and headed over to the roundhouse. There were several other engines in the large roundhouse from three different railroads, GTW among them. And they all seemed to be congregated in groups based on railroad. Christine backed herself into one of the stalls in between the GTW engines and some engines that were lettered for the Pere Marquette. The PM locomotive that was on her left observed her backing in and decided to make the best to introduce itself.

"Hi there," he said. The engine was an average size 4-6-2 Pacific and he had a small mustache on his upper lip. "I bet you're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes I am," Christine replied. "This is my first trip here. My name's Christine."

"Ah. I was guessing that you were new. I'm Sampson. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Another engine from Christine's right spoke up. "Yes. It's always nice to meet new engines." This engine was female and also had a 4-6-2 wheel arrangement. She looked almost exactly like Christine in shape but was slightly taller, had different class markings and was in a different number series than Christine. "I'm Kathrine. And based on the way you're marked, I'm guessing that you're one of my little cousins."

Christine frowned a bit at this. She wasn't that small. In reality, she was about the same size as everyone else there. "Why'd you have to call me small?" She asked.

"Technically I didn't call you small, I just called you my little cousin," Kathrine replied. "We're both based on the same design but we P9 class engines are slightly bigger than you P5 engines. That's why I called you my little cousin. We all refer to each other as big or little cousins depending on weather you're a P5 or P9."

Christine took note of it but still didn't like the fact of being called little. As the evening wore on the topics turned to various subjects, most of which didn't really capture Christine's attention. However, while one of the Detroit, Toledo & Ironton engines from across the shed was talking about something going on down in Ohio, Kathrine leaned over to her cousin.

"Did you happen to notice how hansom he is?" she remarked.

"Who?" Christine lied. She had noticed right away when she pulled into the roundhouse how handsome the DT&I engines were, but she tried her best to make no notice of it.

"The engine that's talking," Kathrine replied. "Man, if I could I'd shove his tender right back into that stall of his just to get a better look at him, and maybe a little more." Kathrine shivered with anticipation as the image of her locking couplers with him flashed through her mind. "My fire's already getting hotter just thinking about it."

"He's just an engine. What's so special about him?"

Kathrine was nearly floored to hear something like that come from any girl. But she remembered that she was still young and probably hadn't had a big exposure to men outside their railroad. "I don't know, but I'd shunt freight cars with him just to have him to myself."

Christine rolled her eyes. She really had noticed how hansom the engine was. In fact, she noticed that all the DT&I engines were extremely hansom. Their paint was extremely clean and shiny, even in the dim light of the roundhouse, and their brass shone like gold. Even the girls were beautiful beyond compare to any of the GTW or PM engines there to the point that it made her a bit jealous.

As she watched out of the corner of her eye, another DT&I engine pulled onto the turntable. As the engine pulled in she heard a satisfied sigh come from her cousin, and several of the other female engines in the shed. She took one glance at the engine and her eyes widened to the point that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He was a standard 2-8-0 but seemed to have such a handsome faceplate that it even rivaled the rest of the DT&I engines. He had a rather tall forehead, a sharp yet elegantly curved nose, slightly curled eyebrows and full lips that seemed to naturally curve into a gentle grin. His eyes were a deep amber that seemed to captivate Christine's gaze with an indescribable passion.

Noticing that the new engine was staring at him, he asked the worker on the turntable to stop on Christine's track. "Hello," he said, pulling forward a bit. He had a rather deep yet young voice, but to Christine, it just seemed to enhance the feeling that she was enveloped in. "I take it you're a new engine here," he said, his natural grin growing a bit. "I'm Daniel. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Christine was so captivated by his gaze that she almost forgot how to talk. "Uh... thank you," Christine replied, blushing somewhat.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Christine," she replied meekly.

"A prettier name could not be picked for an engine as beautiful as you. Let me know when you're back in town. Maybe I can show you around the city and show you what Detroit has to offer. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Sure," was all Christine could bring up.

"Alright then," Daniel said. "I'll talk to you later. Enjoy your time here." And with that, he backed onto the turntable and into his stall once the turntable was lined up.

Even after he backed into his stall in the roundhouse, Christine couldn't take her eyes off of Daniel, even after most of the other engines in the shed had fallen asleep. She almost didn't even here her name being called by her cousin.

"Man, you really got bit hard, didn't you," Kathrine said, finally breaking Christine out of her trance.

"What are you talking about?" Christine replied, trying to hide her embarrassment and failing miserably at it.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten what you've been staring at for the past two hours," Kathrine said with a chuckle. "But I'm actually a bit jealous of you. Daniel is the dream engine of every single female engine in Michigan and Ohio. Even the men are jealous of his looks. If Daniel talks to you, he's serious. And he doesn't approach many girls like that, especially if they're new."

Christine blushed slightly, trying to figure out if what Kathrine had said was a genuine compliment or just her talking. After a while she finally fell asleep, finding her dreams filled with images of Daniel and the words he said to her.

January, 1989

"AAAAAH! What the F***," came a scream from the back of the shop that interrupted Christine's story. As Christine and Michael looked back at what was going on, Dillon rushed past them with an empty milk pail in his hand, followed closely by an extremely soaked Will. "I'll get you, you little bastard!" Will shouted as he chased after his step-brother.

Some of the men in the shop started laughing as the two chased each other out of the shop. Christine chuckled to herself as well.

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"Will went to put a staybolt into the cooling vat, and as he did, Dill came up behind him and dumped a bucket of water on him!" a worker chuckled as he returned to his work.

"Do they always act like that?" Michael asked.

"I'm afraid so. But they do love each other, even if they are only step-brothers," Christine said as she watched Will catch up to Dillon and shove a clump of snow down the back of his shirt. "Kind of reminds me of my sister, Clair."

"Who was she?" Michael asked.

"Clair, or Clairissa which was her full name, was my younger sister. We bonded like we were Siamese twins. In fact, seeing what Dillon did to Will reminds me of the first time I met her, which happened while I was still on the Grand Trunk Western. Unfortunately, we didn't bond like twins when I first met her."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, it all happened after I returned from my second trip to Grand Rapids."

November, 1912

After another long trip from Grand Rapids, Christine was happy to be back in Detroit. She was enjoying her time on the GTW but was looking forward to getting back home to see her family and friends. After she dropped off her coaches, she headed over to the refueling track. While she was there, another P5 engine approached her. Even though she looked like the rest of Christine's siblings, she had something about her that looked rather odd. She had two large rings of metal, one around each eye that looked like they had glass inside of them.

"Hello," the engine said rather shyly. "My name is Clairissa. Is this where I get fresh loads of coal and water?" she asked.

It took a second for Christine to reply, but she eventually said, "Yes, yes it is."

"Thank you," Clairissa said. Christine watched as the engine pulled up to the coaling tower and waited for her tender to be filled.

"Mr. Guilford," Christine whispered to her driver who was oiling her rods, "What are those things on her face?" Mr. Guilford looked at the new engine and was just as surprised as Christine. "They... look like spectacles!" Mr. Guilford said.

"What are 'Spectacles'?" Christine asked.

"They're also called glasses. They're designed to help people who can't see very well, see clearly. Although I've never seen an engine wear them before."

Christine watched as the new engine that was one of her sisters, filled up with coal. She noticed that the engine seemed rather timid and shy. She didn't even seem to respond to her driver that much.

 _What a weird engine,_ Christine thought as Clairissa finished filling up with coal. She then pulled forward and backed onto Christine's track to wait for her turn to fill up with water. Unfortunately, she didn't stop in time and accidentally coupled up to Christine's tender.

"Watch it!" Christine said suddenly as she felt the new engine that was her sister couple up to her.

"Sorry," Clairissa said quickly as she blushed a bright red. She went to pull forward and away from her sister. Unfortunately, she went to move before her fireman could uncouple the two engines and pulled Christine back with a mighty heave. The jolt knocked Mr. Thomas over and he tumbled back from his post at the water spigot and into the fresh coal pile in Christine's tender.

As she felt herself get pulled backwards, Christine called out, "Hey! What are you- AAAAAAAAAHH!" she screamed as she felt the water from the tower spill over her boiler. But it wasn't just any water, it was ice cold water.

After Mr. Thomas picked himself up out of the coal pile, he quickly climbed out of her tender and ran over to pull the spigot off of Christine, shutting off the water supply. "Christine! Are you alright?" Mr. Guilford asked, even though he already knew the answer. Christine just sat there and shivered furiously. Some of the water had managed to get into her firebox and had killed the outer edges of her fire.

Clairissa just blushed an even brighter red. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," She said. The nervousness in her voice was evident. "I didn't mean to- I mean, I never intended to-" Then she instantly closed her mouth, bit her bottom lip, and ran off. Christine heard what sounded like sobs coming from her sister as she ran off.

Christine tried to call back to her as she realized she had probably been too hard on her. "Clairissa! Wait, I-" But she was already gone. "Dang it," She said to herself. "Can you get me over to wherever she's going?" she asked Mr. Guilford.

"Sure. Let's get going."

Before long, Christine found Clairissa sitting on a lonely spur in between some lines of boxcars. Christine pulled around and pulled up to her sister, moving slowly so as not to startle her.

"Hey. You alright?" She asked.

Clairissa looked up and jumped a bit as she saw who it was. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to pull you under the water spout," she said rapidly.

"It's alright," Christine said calmly.

"I keep making all these mistakes and- Huh?" Clairissa said, suddenly realizing what Christine had said.

"I said it's alright. I'm not mad at you or anything. It was just an accident."

"You're sure?" Clairissa asked.

"Yep."

Clairissa sat silently for a minute as she began to process the information.

"How about we start over? Hi. I'm Christine. Welcome to the Grand Trunk Railway."

"Thank you. I'm Clairissa. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. And do you mind if I call you Clair? I think it would be much easier than calling you Clairissa all the time," Christine replied.

"Yeah, that would be fine," Clair replied.

"So, what happened back there? Why'd you couple up to me?"

"Oh, I'm just trying to get used to these spectacles," Clair said. "When I woke up at Baldwin, I could barely see anything. Everything looked blurry to me. They brought a special man to come see me and he said that I was near-sighted. He made these spectacles for me to help me see well, but I'm still unable to see that well behind me. That was why I accidentally coupled up to you."

"And in your embarrassment you pulled forward before you were uncoupled," Christine finished.

"Precisely," Clair replied.

"Well I apologize if I seemed to be angry. I was just startled, that's all."

"It's alright. I understand."

"So, do you think that we can try to be friends?" Christine asked.

"Yeah. I think I'd like that," Clair replied.

January, 1989

"And that's how we met," Christine finished.

"Wow. That's quite the story. So what happened after that?"

"Well, we stayed in touch even after I went back to Canada and I continued to work as usual until 1923 when I was transferred over to the GTW."

Just then, Mr. Rauli approached them. "I'm sorry to interrupt again, but with Will and Dill's little shenanigan earlier, I'm down a man and we still have about two hours of work left. Do you think you could help with the rest of the work?"

"Yeah, I can help. Just let me pack up my things," Michael replied.

The rest of the day was used to finish putting more staybolts in Christine and doing other maintenance work. When everything was finished for the day, Mr. Rauli gave a quick rundown of who should be at the next rebuild session and what would be done then. Michael said goodbye to Christine and promised to return in three weeks.

Christine watched as the men left and thought back to her days on the GTW. Mainly the good times and how she sometimes wished she could go back in time and relive some of her experiences all over again. But that's a story for another time.


	5. The Plot, Pt 1

_Port Huron, MI_

 _February, 1989_

Michael sat in his hotel room, relaxing the only way he knew how to, writing. It had been a long drive from Wisconsin and he relaxed his stiff muscles as he lay on the bed writing. He was listening over the last conversation he had with Christine and was writing down her story almost word for word. As he sat on the bed writing, his trail of thoughts was interrupted by the telephone ringing. Michael turned off the recorder and laid his notebook down on the nightstand as he reached for the phone.

"Hello, Michael Grovelan speaking," he said as he answered. "Hey Mom... Yeah, I just got to the hotel about an hour ago and was just working on doing some more writing for my story... Why? What's wrong?... Oh no. Not this."

Michael sighed and put his hand to his face and massaged his forehead a bit. "Yeah, I thought he'd last the winter too... Well, I'll be home as soon as possible, but you know how committed I am to this story. I can't just up and leave them hanging. It's rude and unprofessional, no matter what may happen... I'll go meet with them tomorrow and then I'll come straight home, alright?... Okay. Love you Mom... Bye."

Michael set the phone on the receiver, sighed and put his face in his hands. He was hoping that this wouldn't happen for at least a few more months, but it was something his entire family knew was inevitable. He looked back over at the clock and registered the time before realizing that he needed to do something to get his mind off of this pressing issue. If he let it overpower him for too long, he wouldn't be working his optimum tomorrow.

He decided to go out and do some local train watching and see if he could get a better idea of what things were like back in Christine's day, despite the fact that a fair number of historical structures had already been torn down. After that was done, he swim a few laps in the hotel pool and then hit the sack for the night. He knew he'd need the rest as tomorrow was going to be a long day.

The next morning Michael took his time with getting ready. Because he took his time, he missed breakfast at the Raulis' house. When he got to the house there was a note on the door.

 _Dear Michael,_

 _Sorry you missed breakfast with us. We tried to call the hotel but you never picked up. Guess you were in the shower or something. We've already headed up to the shop so just come up and we'll get a move on with everything._

 _Mr. Rauli._

Michael sighed as he got back in his car and headed north to the shop where Christine was. Upon arriving, he walked into the shops where Mr. Rauli and Christine greeted him. However, both of them quickly picked up that Michael wasn't his usual chipper self.

"You alright?" Mr. Rauli asked. "You look as glum as a Detroit Toledo & Ironton worker on merger day."

"Yeah, well I got some news last night. I found out that my Grandpa is back in the hospital. Doctors say he's not gonna make it by next week."

"Oh, Michael. I'm so sorry to hear that. You could have called me to cancel and reschedule."

"I know, but that would have been a bit unprofessional of me. When you prepare for an important meeting like this weeks, or months in advance, you don't just drop it at the last minute. It's unprofessional and downright rude."

Mr. Rauli gave Michael a warm smile. "I completely understand."

"Thank you. I wouldn't be taking this so hard if it wasn't for the history that my Grandpa had. He was an air sniper during World War I and had a few prestigious awards given to him for his service."

The mention of World War I caught Christine's attention and her eyebrows perked up. "Your grandfather's a WWI vet?"

"Yes he is," Michael replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I served in a significant event in WWI that, had certain events not taken place properly, could have meant that the war would've gone on for at least a bit longer. In fact, take a look at the placard underneath my drivers' side builders plate."

Michael climbed up on Christine and took a look at the placard and, reading out loud, said "This placard is dedicated to Christine, engine No. 5038 of the Grand Trunk Railway, and her crew, Fredrick Guilford and Albert Thomas, for their valiant effort to preserve and protect the infrastructure of the United States of America. Presented on July 17, 1917 by Newton D. Baker, Secretary of War of the United States of America." Michael leaned back and gave a soft whistle. "Wow," he said. "You must've done something extremely big in order to get something as special as this."

"Oh I did. You want to hear about it?"

"Sure. Let me just grab my things and get set up."

Once Michael had everything set up he turned the recorder on and started the interview. "So how did you get this placard of recognition from WWI?" he asked as he started the interview for the day.

"Well, due to the increase of traffic during the war, several of the engines on the GT were transferred over to the Grand Trunk Western to help out. I was one of the few passenger engines selected to head over to America."

 _Mt. Clemens, Michigan_

 _April 4, 1917_

Christine was traveling north on the Mt. Clemens Subdivision headed for Port Huron with a loaded passenger train. With Easter weekend fast approaching, lots of people were traveling to go see family and friends for the holiday. Also, with World War I in full swing, the GTW was getting a lot of extra business shipping war materials east to Canada and the Atlantic ports and needed a few extra engines. Christine and one of her siblings were selected along with several other freight engines to go to America to help with the work load.

On this particular trip, Christine was stopped at the station in Mt. Clemens, the namesake of the Mt. Clemens Subdivision. The station was a standard brick structure like all the others that dotted the GTW system. However this one had the unique distinction of being the station that Thomas Edison had been a telegrapher at.

While sitting at the station, waiting for passengers to interchange with the Detroit United Railway, a local interurban conglomerate that owned the three interurban lines that connected in Mt. Clemens, Mr. Guilford read up on the newspaper he had bought in Detroit. After reading the paper for a while he folded it up with a sigh.

"Well, that does it," Mr. Guilford said getting up and chucking the paper into Christine's firebox. "America's finally going to be in the war."

"Well do you blame them, especially after everything the Germans have been doing the last few years?" Mr. Thomas replied. "I'm surprised they didn't join back in 1915 after the sinking of the Lusitania,".

Mr. Guilford nodded in agreement. "Yes, but you have to remember that President Wilson has been very adamant about not getting involved in this war. He knows this is a European conflict and that they shouldn't be meddling in their affairs. The only reason he's doing this is because the Germans are sinking their merchant ships again. That and apparently the British intercepted a telegram from the Germans to the Mexicans, saying that if they joined the war, Germany would help them regain all their lost territory, which is basically the entire southwestern quarter of the US."

"Well, now that you bring up that telegram, I don't blame the US for wanting to get involved. That's basically a direct threat of war to the US," Mr. Thomas said after thinking about the situation.

"Exactly," Mr Guilford replied. "What did they call it now? Zimmer-something? Zimmerman telegram. That's it."

"But that brings up another question. How long will the war last now that America's finally entered the war?" Mr. Thomas asked.

"No idea. But I'm guessing not that long. America's army is pretty powerful. Plus, their war production is already in full swing in assisting Britain and France," Mr. Guilford replied.

"It also means something else," Christine chimed in.

"Oh? And what's that?" Mr. Guilford asked.

"A lot more work for me and my family and friends."

Mr. Guilford chuckled a bit. "Then we'd better get done with this run as fast as possible," he said. He sat down in his chair and got to work right as the conductor whistled them off and called the "All Aboard!" Mr. Guilford released the breaks and pulled out the throttle, and Christine pulled out of the station and began charging northward.

Upon arriving in Port Huron, Christine's crew went inside the depot to talk to management about their next assignment. While they did that Christine sat at the station resting her wheels. As she sat with her eyes closed, her slight rest was suddenly interrupted by a hissing noise.

"Psst. Albert. Albert! Over here," a voice whispered.

Christine opened her eyes and looked in the direction of the voice. A young man was leaning around the corner of the station trying to get someone's attention. The man he was trying to get the attention of had just gotten off of Christine's train and was now walking up to the young man. The man known as Albert was slightly older and a bit thicker than the younger man he was meeting. He was wearing a nicely tailored business suit and walked with an aura of importance about him.

Albert quickly grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him around the corner of the station. "You have the materials I told you to get Fritz?" he asked.

"Yes. I have zhem right here," Fritz replied as he handed the man a pair of women's roller skates and a briefcase. He had a German accent which was something that Albert didn't have and he also wore slightly less than fancy clothes when compared to Albert. "I still don't completely understand vhy you vanted me to bring zhis to you here of all places?"

"Haven't you read the news today?" Albert replied angrily, throwing a folded up newspaper in Fritz's face. "They're finally deciding to declare war on the Fatherland. And once they get troops over there, that's the end of the war. Frankly they shouldn't even be sticking their nose into this war at all. This is a European conflict, not a world conflict. That incompetent President Wilson should've realized that when he started sending supply ships over to Britain. If he aids our enemies, he's going to get attacked too. Plain and simple. If anything I think that he did that on purpose just so he could get his foot onto European soil."

"Alright, calm down and close your mouth! You don't vant anyvone to hear you. You could get arrested for vhat you're saying."

"Does it look like I care about that?" Albert replied angrily. He paused to take a deep breath and calm down before putting a hand on Fritz's shoulder. "Look Fritz, I know you don't like America getting involved in the war any more than I do. But since they are, we have to move quickly in order to delay the Americans in anything. But mark my words, the day they declare war I'm blowing up the tunnel. I want you to start contacting everyone and tell them to meet at my home tomorrow evening for instructions on taking out their assigned targets. And tell my sister to be there as well."

"Vill do. I'll contact Carl at vonce and get everyone together."

"Good man." Albert gave Fritz a quick brotherly hug. "Promise me that if anything happens, you'll take care of my sister."

"I vill, Albert. I promise," Fritz replied. And with that, Albert headed off behind the station to board one of the trolleys waiting to pick up passengers. Fritz on the other hand waited a few minutes before heading east along the tracks and into town.

Christine sat dumbfounded, not even believing what she'd just heard. _This has to be a dream,_ she thought to herself. She blinked her eyes rapidly and shook her head, but everything was still the same and she could still see Fritz walking away. She tried biting her lip, as it was the only thing she could do to inflict pain on herself, to try and wake up. But everything was the same.

This wasn't a dream, she had actually heard two Germans talking about blowing up the tunnel. Of course, the tunnel they were talking about was obvious; it was the St. Clair Tunnel. There wasn't another tunnel within several hundred miles of Port Huron. And at this present moment of time, it was probably one of the most vital links with America and Canada. Over fifty percent of all the war materials that went from America to Canada went through the tunnel. If it was gone, traffic would have to be routed all the way north of Lake Superior or go up to Buffalo and around Lake Ontario. This was the most direct link for West-East transportation between the two nations.

When her crew returned, she quickly told them about everything she'd just heard. "Are you sure about this?" Mr. Guilford asked her. "You didn't mishear anything?"

"No I didn't," she replied firmly. "I heard everything plain as day, just like I can hear you right now."

Mr. Guilford thought about this sudden series of events for a moment, pacing back and forth along the platform. Finally he sighed and leaned his back against Christine's pilot.

"So, what are we going to do?" Mr. Thomas asked.

"The only thing we can do," Mr. Guilford replied. "We've got to notify the authorities."


	6. The Plot, Pt 2

_April 5, 1917_

 _Port Huron, MI_

Fredrick Guilford and Albert Thomas were waiting in the crew offices of the Port Huron yard for the police to show up. They had placed the report the day before, but because of the time they placed it they had to wait until the following day to speak with an officer. As Albert sat on a bench sipping on a hot cup of coffee, Fred was pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Fred, if you keep walking like that you're gonna wear a hole right through to China," Albert finally said.

"Sorry Al," he replied before finally sitting down. But it was clear that he couldn't stay still as he started wringing his hands in a nervous fashion.

"Look," Albert said, "I know you're nervous. Heck, I am too. Who wouldn't be?"

"The Germans," Fred remarked sarcastically. Both men stopped and looked at each other before they started laughing.

"That's not what I meant," Albert said with a chuckle, "My point is that you just need to calm down, be patient, and let the situation take its course."

"I know. But that still doesn't change the fact that I feel like we're in a race against time."

As the two men chatted a pair of police officers walked into the offices and came up to them. One was in his mid-30's and was rather tall, while the other one was barely 20 and was slightly shorter and not as well built as the first officer. "Excuse me," the older officer asked as he approached Christine's crew, "Would either of you be a Fredrick Guilford?"

"That's me," Fred said as he stood up and shook the officer's hand. "Thank you for coming when you could."

"Not a problem," the officer replied. "I'm Officer Rickman and this is Officer Swenson. We understand that you needed to talk to us about something rather important."

"Yes, but it's not me who you need to talk to. Follow me." he replied as he started towards the door with Albert following suit.

The two officers looked at each other then back at the men a little confused before following them. "But you're the one that called the station," Officer Swenson stated. "If you're not the person we need to talk to then who?"

"It's my engine, Christine," he replied back.

Both officers stopped dead in their tracks as they tried to process this new information. "An engine?" Officer Swenson declared with a look of disbelief on his face. "You can't be serious?"

"Yes, an engine," Fred replied as he turned around to face the officers once more. "And her name is Christine. Now if you don't mind this is a matter of international security. So, officers, if you please," he said making a gesture towards the door. The two officers were hesitant and looked at each other as if they were hoping the other would have something to say about the situation. However, neither did. They both sighed and finally followed him out to the yard.

* * *

While this was going on, Christine was sitting outside of the offices trying to calm down. But, considering what she had heard the day before, she was having a bit of trouble calming down. Although a bit of trouble would probably have been a bit of an understatement. She was so tensed up that she had unintentionally giving her crew a difficult time on the morning run to Detroit and back.

As of right now, she was simply trying to relax. But with the knowledge that she was going to have to talk to the police, her emotions suddenly got tangled up again and she started to panic. Luckily for her, her cousin Kathrine was right there to talk to her.

"Christine, you really need to calm down about this," Kathrine said as she tried to console her cousin. "I've talked to several police officers since I've been built. Trust me, there's nothing to worry about."

"That's easy for you to say," Christine retorted back. "You've talked to them before. I haven't."

Kathrine was taken aback by this for a minute. "You mean to tell me you've never talked to a police officer before? You've never had a grade crossing accident and had to explain to the police what happened?"

"No, I never have." Christine replied. "That's why I'm so nervous. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Kathrine thought for a minute before replying. She was a bit impressed that Christine hadn't talked to police for an interview before. She knew Christine had a good track record but she didn't think it was that good. "Alright, if this is your first time having an interview with police, the first thing you should do is be as polite as possible with them. After all, police officers are the ones that enforce the laws that all humans live by, so it's only proper for us to be polite no matter what they say. And always refer to them as officer, not sir."

"Alright, be polite," Christine repeated.

"Second, tell them the truth, only the truth and don't say anything that isn't true. Don't throw other things in that might not have happened. If you don't remember something specific, don't mention it until you remember it."

"Got it, only tell the truth and what I remember."

"Finally, no matter what you do, don't get angry."

"Why would I get angry?"

"Well, sometimes police officers are having an off day, just like our crews do from time to time. Something might have happened and now they're not focusing on their job as much. If the officer you're talking to is dealing with that, he may come across as rude or disrespectful even though he's supposed to be respectful towards us just as much as we are to them. But no matter what happens, don't get angry at them. Getting angry will only make things worse."

"Okay. Don't get angry."

As the two engines finished up their conversation, Christine's crew walked out of the yard office with the two officers in tow. Kathrine noticed that Christine was getting nervous again as soon as she saw the officers.

"Christine, relax," she said in a calming tone. "Just take a deep breath, calm yourself and remember what I told you. You'll be fine."

"Be polite, only tell the truth and don't get angry, right?" Christine asked.

"You got it cousin," Kathrine replied with a smile before she backed away. "Come find me after you're done and tell me how it went."

"Will do, and thank you for the help," Christine replied.

"That's what cousins are for."

After Kathrine left, Mr. Guilford walked up to his engine and introduced the two officers. "Christine, this is Officer Rickman and Officer Swenson. Officers, this is Christine."

"Hello officers," Christine said, trying her hardest to be polite like Kathrine had told her. "It's nice to meet you."

Neither of the officers said anything. They just stared at Christine, not knowing what to do. Finally, Officer Swenson spoke up. "This has to be some kind of joke. You can't expect us to interview an engine about this."

Mr. Guilford was starting to get rather annoyed by both officers' attitude and immediately picked up on what was going on. "Yes I am serious. And as I said earlier, this is a matter of international security. Shall we continue?"

Officer Swenson was in a complete state of disbelief. He couldn't believe that they were actually interviewing a locomotive. It was disrespectful to him and his job. The same could be said about Officer Rickman as he was having similar thoughts. He didn't like this assignment one bit. But at the same time, he did have a job to do, regardless of the situation. "Well...," he sighed, trying to hold back his frustration as he rubbed his face with his hand before relenting, "Alright. Tell me what happened."

Over the next few minutes, Christine explained everything about what happened the day before to the officers. She even went as far as describing the clothes they wore and the type of accents they had. However, neither officer asked her a question. Officer Rickman just wrote some of the things that Christine said into his notebook while Officer Swenson paid almost no attention to the situation. He even went as far as waving to a small group of young girls about his age that were walking down the street adjacent to the yard offices.

The actions and attitudes of the officers were starting to get to Mr. Guilford. He didn't like this situation one bit. Here he had an international security issue on his hands and the officers that had been assigned to talk to them were being purposefully incompetent and unprofessional. What he wouldn't give to smack that attitude right out of Officer Swenson. But he kept his cool about it and tried his best to just let the situation play itself out.

Christine was also getting rather annoyed as she noticed the officers' attitudes as well. But despite how she was feeling, she remembered what her cousin told her, kept her cool and continued to respect the officers no matter what. Finally, she reached the climax of her explanation to the officers. "And that's when I heard Albert say that the day the US declares war he's blowing up the tunnel," she said.

That did it. "Are you kidding me?!" Officer Swenson shouted. "We came out all this way to have an engine tell us some crazy story about two guys that said they're gonna blow up a tunnel?" If Officer Rickman had any inclination against how Officer Swenson was acting, he was either too tired to care or too bored from the situation itself to do anything.

Christine went to defend herself against Officer Swenson's accusations but Mr. Guilford beat him to it. "This is not some crazy story Officer. This is the truth."

"If this really is the truth," Officer Swenson argued, "Then you tell me what you saw."

"I didn't see anything that happened because I was away from my engine at the time," he replied, knowing he was trying to be pinned in a corner. "However, I have complete faith and trust that what my engine saw was indeed the truth."

Officer Swenson tried to hold back a laugh but failed. "You trust an engine?" he asked humorously. "It's a machine that's designed to do the work that humans can't. You can't really be taking them seriously."

Both Christine's crew moved forward and stood in front of their locomotive, placing themselves between her and the officers. "Yes, we do," Mr. Thomas replied. "And you'd be surprised that a lot more people believe and trust in their engines like we do than you think."

Still holding back a chuckle, Officer Swenson replied, "You're crazy," he said. "It's a machine that's been made by humans. How are we supposed to take it seriously?"

"Because whether you like it or not," Mr. Guilford replied, "Christine is alive and can see, hear and comprehend things just as well as any human can. Possibly even better than some that I know," he said giving Officer Swenson a suggestive look.

Officer Swenson nearly charged the older engineer and wanted to arrest him for contempt towards an officer of the law, but Officer Rickman, finally fed up with the ridiculous bantering, stopped him. "Mark, that's enough," he said before turning to Christine's crew. "I think that takes care of everything," he said, trying his hardest to be at least a little more polite than his colleague. "Thank you for your time."

"But aren't you going to do something about this?" Mr. Guilford asked, clearly is a state of disbelief at what he was seeing and hearing. "This is an issue of international security!"

"I understand that," Officer Rickman replied. "However, the only thing we can do is file it and have someone else do a follow up. We're simply the officers who ask the questions and write up the report. Have a good day."

As the two walked away, leaving both engine and crew completely bewildered, Officer Swenson turned to his partner. "You can't be serious about actually filing this, are you? The whole thing's completely ridiculous."

"Yes I am," Officer Rickman replied. "As much as I was annoyed by that whole scenario, we still need to follow protocol on this."

"You're starting to sound like you actually agree with that engine."

"I never said such a thing. However, if the ridiculous does happen and someone does blow up that tunnel, we'll be the first ones who get crucified because we didn't do our jobs properly."

As the two walked off the property, Mr. Guilford and Mr. Thomas climbed into Christine's cab. Mr. Guilford was clearly perturbed by the whole thing but didn't say a word for a few minutes. He just sat in his chair thinking. After a few minutes, he started to work away on Christine.

"I can't believe it," Christine began to rant as they pulled away from the yard office. "I just can't believe it."

"Well, you're probably gonna have to believe it and get used to it Christine," Mr. Guilford said with a sigh.

"Why? Why don't they believe me? It's a threat of an attack for crying out loud."

"Well, some people are like that. They think that because someone or something that has sentience is different from them, or in some cases a machine that is supposed to do things for humans, they don't feel that they have to observe or believe someone like that. And trust me, there are more people like that out there."

"I just don't understand why would someone be that way?"

"It's a little thing called pride. Some people think that because they made something else, that gives them more of a right over that thing. Unfortunately, there's a similar issue amongst us humans as well called racism, and it's basically the same thing. Some humans with white skin think that humans with brown skin aren't as important or should be allowed to live the same as white people are. They think that because they came from an undeveloped region of the world, and because many of their ancestors were actually slaves at one point, that they are inferior to white people and don't deserve the things that white people take for granted."

"That doesn't make any sense. They're still humans and I'm still an engine. Why should it matter?"

"Well, there are a lot of reasons for that, and they're all ridiculous. I guess the only way to really describe it is a phrase my father used to use. 'You can fix crazy, but you can't fix stupid.'"

The phrase kind of made sense to Christine, but she was too caught up in her frustration over the situation to pay it any more thought. They headed towards the roundhouse so that Christine could relax a bit. In the past when they would come to the roundhouse, the turntable would start to turn towards them before they came to a stop. But this time, it didn't. In fact, it didn't move at all. As Mr. Guilford started to climb down to find out what was going on, a young roundhouse hand ran up to them.

"The turntable's broken," he said. "Shop Foreman thinks it's a broken gear. We have people working on it but it won't be fixed for a while. You'll have to go somewhere else. Both the Pere Marquette and Port Huron & Detroit roundhouses have arranged to let you stay there if you want."

"Well ain't that a fun batch of biscuits," Mr. Guilford said. "Thanks for letting us know son."

The boy nodded and ran back to the roundhouse as Mr. Guilford climbed back into the cab. As he explained the situation to Mr. Thomas, Christine looked around the roundhouse, searching in vain for Kathrine. She did spot another cousin, Kristen, and asked her where she was.

"She took the train to Grand Haven. I was supposed to take it but, because the turntable broke, she took it instead."

 _Great. Just great._ Christine said to herself as she started to fume again.

Her crew had decided to head over to the PH&D roundhouse, which was right across the yard from the GT roundhouse, since it was smaller and would have the best chance of giving Christine some time to herself. The roundhouse was small, with only six stalls, but was nice enough and had its own turntable. The roundhouse itself was devoid of the small 0-6-0 steam engines that worked on the PH&D as they were out doing their assigned jobs for the day, which turned out to be a good thing.

After pulling up to the roundhouse, Christine's crew started shutting her down for the day as there weren't any more scheduled trains for them. Mr. Guilford was silent the entire time, his mind still focused on the issue at hand. Mr. Thomas finished cleaning the ash pan after they dumped her fire and signaled to Mr. Guilford that they were ready to put her in the roundhouse. After parking her in one of the stalls, Mr. Guilford climbed down with his grip and started to head out.

"Mr. Guilford?" Christine called out as he walked away.

"Yeah Christine?" he replied as he turned around.

"What's going to happen now? Isn't there anything we can do?"

Mr. Guilford's expression turned solemn. He knew the question was there but he was just avoiding it. He didn't want to admit that it really looked like there wasn't anything they could do. Still, he had to put on a strong impression. He didn't want his engine to begin to doubt him.

"I really don't know," he finally said. "But by George I promise you that we will figure out something. Even if I have to contact the President of the United States himself, we will ensure the safety of the Grand Trunk Railway, the United States and Canada."

Christine still looked skeptical, and in truth she did feel that way, but she put on a smile and nodded. As they walked off the property Mr. Thomas turned to Mr. Guilford. "Nice speech Fred. You sure you won't go into politics?"

Mr. Guilford chuckled. "No, I'm quite content to stick with the railroad. In fact it'll probably be better since I don't even know how much power my words actually had." Mr. Thomas nodded, understanding what he meant.

Christine decided to try and take a nap. But her thoughts wouldn't let her sleep. All she could think about was the plot to blow up the tunnel. Somehow, sleep finally consumed her and she drifted into a dream. Christine found herself standing in front of the St. Clair Tunnel. As she looked around she saw Albert standing at the top of the grade that led down to the tunnel with a stick of dynamite in his hand.

Seeing him, Christine turned to the two police officers standing next to her. "There he is," she shouted. "He's going to blow up the tunnel!"

"Who are you talking about?" the officers said, "There's no one trying to blow up the tunnel."

Christine saw Albert light a match as he started running down the hill towards the tunnel. Without thinking Christine started to move on her own towards the tunnel. "Stop!" she shouted at Albert.

But he wasn't listening. With a smirk on his face he lit the fuse. "Death to America!" he shouted and threw the dynamite into the tunnel.

"NOOOO!" Christine shouted before there was a loud bang, a flash of light and Christine found herself caught in the explosion.

Christine jumped from her sleep screaming. Her screams woke up the two engines sitting next to her. "Christine! Are you all right?" one of the engines said. Christine jumped, still in shock from her nightmare, turned to see Riley, the first friend she had made on the GT when she first arrived on the property, and her brother Christopher.

Christine panted, and in her excited state she shouted "He's gonna blow up the tunnel! We have to stop him!"

"Christine, calm down," Christopher said reassuringly. "It was just a bad dream. No one's going to blow up any tunnel."

But Christine wouldn't listen. "No, I'm serious. Someone's going to blow up the St. Clair Tunnel!"

This caused the two engines to raise an eyebrow. "Christine, take a deep breath and calm down," Riley said. "We can't understand what's going on unless you calmly tell us what's going on."

Christine did, but before she said anything she turned to her brother. "Chris, you would believe what I said no matter how ridiculous is sounded, right?"

Christopher, or Chris as she always called him, was her closest brother. He was the first P5 locomotive to be built by the Montreal Locomotive Works as number 169 in January of 1913. As soon as he arrived on the property, Christine had given him a warm welcome. She had only one other brother at the time, Cal, and wasn't exactly enthused by him. So when she found out she was getting a new brother she was as giddy as a schoolgirl. It was unusual for a girl engine to be excited to have a brother since most girl engines wanted sisters so they would have more in common, but it happened with Christine. And she did her best to make sure that he was welcomed with overflowing enthusiasm.

Even though he was younger than Christine, Chris still made it his job to defend his big sister. And right now, he was more attentive than ever. "Of course Christine," he said reassuringly. "You know me. I'd do anything to defend or protect you."

As Christine explained the situation, both engines wanted to make sure they heard her right. The thought of someone trying to blow up the tunnel for any reason seemed completely ludicrous to them. But they knew that if Christine heard someone say something about it, then it must be true. Once she finished, Riley gave a deep sigh while Chris gave a low whistle. "That's heavy," Chris said.

"I know," Christine replied. "My crew said they'd try to figure out something but it doesn't sound like there's anything they can do either."

"There has to be something we can do," Riley said. "My engineer always says 'If there's a will there's a way.'"

"But, the question of the day," Chris replied, "Is what that way is?" The three engines sat and pondered that very question for a long time.

* * *

Fred and Albert sat in a corner booth of the Roche Bar in downtown Port Huron. The low light of the bar made it a good place for a private discussion, but Fred just sat silently, slowly drinking his beer.

Albert looked at him quizzically. He knew exactly what was going through Fred's mind. But before he had a chance to say anything, another one of their fellow employees approached them.

"Evening Fred, Al," the man said.

"Evening Ferdie," Albert said.

"Nice of you to join us Conductor Gindele," Fred remarked. "Have a beer and join us. We could use some uplifting company."

Conductor Ferdinand Gindele was one of the senior conductors working out of Port Huron for the Grand Trunk. He was mainly assigned to the Mt. Clemens Subdivision and Christine's crew had gotten to know him rather well during their temporary transfer to the US. "Don't mind if I do." he replied as he took a seat next to Fred.

"So how were the passengers today?" Fred asked. "I know we were having a bit of trouble with Christine."

"They were fine. No major issues to report," he replied. "But I do need to talk to you guys about something; something rather important."

"Oh?" Fred replied with a raised eyebrow. "What could be so important for you to meet us here?"

"It's about that issue you guys are having."

Albert and Fred both looked at each other suddenly, not really sure what to say. But Fred did say something. "How do you know about that?"

The look on Ferdie's face gave away the fact that he knew more than what he really wanted to say. "Well, for starters, I overheard the same conversation that Christine overheard. The gentleman named Albert had left a briefcase on the train and I went to return it to him. That's when I overheard their conversation."

Fred was nearly ecstatic but controlled his temper. The last thing he wanted was a scene. "Why didn't you tell anyone about this? Do you realize what we've been through? Those idiots that came to us wouldn't believe Christine just because she was an engine!"

Ferdie's face twisted as if he'd just been gut punched and he started to sweat. This was enough cue for Fred to identify that wasn't all there was. "There's something else isn't there?" he said.

"Yes. His full name is Albert Carl Kaltschmidt. He's the President of the Marine City Salt Company. He started a ring towards the beginning of the war called the _Deutscherbund_ or the German Confederation. It's a group of southeastern Michigan German-Americans who intend to destroy infrastructure in both Michigan and Ontario to stall war efforts. Remember that explosion at the Peabody factory in Walkerville, Ontario two years ago? That was their work.

"The other gentleman was Fritz Keef. He's Albert's brother-in-law. They've been working on various sabotage projects throughout the area. Some of these are commanded by even bigger rings that are run by the German Secret Service themselves." He paused for a second and took in a deep breath. "The reason I haven't said anything is because…" he paused again. "It's because my brother is a member of the Confederation."

Now everything made sense. He hadn't said anything because he didn't want to have to be the one to turn in his own flesh and blood relative. Fred realized this immediately and realized that something had to be done, and it had to be done fast.

"I see what you're saying Ferdie," he said politely, "It's difficult to stand up for what's right when it involves your family name. But you need to realize something and you need to realize it fast. This is war. At this very moment, the United States Congress is voting on weather it should join this war or not. The announcement will come any day now, and when it does this will be our war as well.

"When it comes to war, people have a duty to help defend their country by any means necessary. As of right now, I am a Canadian that has been transferred outside of his country to work. But, because my country is at war, it is still my duty to defend anyone from the enemies of my country. And in this case, it is my job to defend this vital link between our two countries. And if war does comes to the US, which I can almost guarantee you it will, it will be your duty too."

"I know all that Fred," he replied. "But what am I supposed to do?"

This time it was Albert's turn to speak up. "Ferdie, Think of it this way. What would you do if someone, anyone, came into your house with a gun and threatened your family?"

It took him a second, but he finally replied, "I'd do whatever it took to protect my family."

"And what would you do if the same thing happened on a train that you were in charge of?" Albert asked.

Another pause as he started to realize what Albert was getting at. "I'd do the exact same to protect my passengers."

"Your brother is helping a group of people that are intending on blowing up that tunnel, and no one is there to stop them. Imagine what would happen if your brother got caught in a blast because of this terrorist group? Or if he happened to kill innocent Canadians and Americans that might be on a train inside the tunnel when it blows up? If you know something Ferdie, you need to speak up now. Or else you'd be doing the exact same as if you did nothing in either of those situations I told you about earlier."

Ferdie bowed his head. "Yeah, you're right. I can't be sitting here wondering what I should do when I know what I should do."

"Now you're thinking," Fred said. "But now we have a new problem. No one at the police station is going to believe us. So what do we do?"

Ferdie thought for a moment. "Well, they are having a meeting tonight at Albert's house in Marine City."

"Is there any way you could get into that meeting and find out what's going on?" Fred asked.

"I could try, but I'm not sure I could do anything."

"Then I'll go with you," Albert said.

"You?" Ferdie asked in surprise.

"Now just a minute," Fred said. "I'm not about to let my fireman get into something that could potentially kill him."

"I appreciate your concern Fred, but this is something that has to be done. If Ferdie goes in there as nervous as he is, he could potentially blow everything, figuratively speaking of course. I, on the other hand, could slip in without suspicion and possibly find out what's going on and come up with a plan to stop this."

"But, how are you going to get in?" Ferdie asked. "Only German-decent citizens are allowed in."

"I'm going to get in because I'm of German ancestry. My parents moved to Canada when I was only two years old. Our family name was originally Tomaz, but we changed it to Thomas when we moved. With my ancestry, I would be more than allowed to get into that meeting."

"I see," Ferdie said, pondering this new information.

"So, can you get me into that meeting?"

"I can try," Ferdie said. "I'll contact my brother and see what he can do."

"Thank you," Albert said. "And just be as calm as possible about it. Don't worry about anything."

"I'll try," Ferdie replied before getting up to find a telephone.

"You never told me you were German," Fred said after he left.

"I never found the need to. My parents moved to Canada when I was practically a baby, so I'm about as Canadian as you could guess."

"Well, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into with this," Fred said solemnly."

"Yeah," Albert said. "Me Too"


End file.
